OUR COUNTRY" 

FROM A SPEECH DELIVERED BY 

WILLIAM H. McCarthy 








•-A 






"OUR COUNTRY" 

FROM A SPEECH DELIVERED BY 

WILLIAM H. MCCARTHY 

AT THE BANQUET OF 

San Francisco Lodge. No. 3 

BENEVOLENT PROTECTIVE ORDER ELKS 

ST. FRANCIS HOTEL. SAN FRANCISCO. CAL. 

APRIL 25. 1917 



Into a bitter conflict, tvhich has scourged humanity such 
as no war or famine or pestilence has ever done; into a 
war which has brought Europe to its knees, crushed and 
bowed and broken for the millions whose lives have been 
sacrificed, for the land that has been pillaged and sacked 
and ruined, for the homeS that have been destroyed; into 
the greatest, and please God, the last of the world wars 
with more pain, more suffering and death, more heart- 
aches and grief, more pitiless woe. to mankind; into a 
World's Gethsemene of anguish and sorrow and up the 
steep slopes of a new Calvary, where Liberty and Human- 
ity hang crucified, this land of ours— this great United 
States — has at last been drawn. 

Patiently have we endured the crimes and indignities. 
Our property destroyed, the lives of our citizens sacrified, 
our flag dishonored, our treaties broken, the free use of 
the seas denied us, until at last entreaty gave way with 
endurance tried beyond bounds. The German government 



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had issued its challenge to mankind and civilization itself 
trembled in the balance. Then, just as in '76 Jefferson 
wrote his Declaration of Independence, declaring "We hold 
these truths to be self evident; that all men are created 
equally free and independent; that they possess certain 
inalienable rights and that amongst them are the preserva- 
tion of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." And 
even as in '61 Lincoln proclaimed his Doctrine of Eman- 
cipation to prove that the government of the people, for 
the people and by the people should not perish from the 
face of the earth, so in Nineteen Seventeen it was given 
to Woodrow Wilson to take up the gauntlet and accept the 
challenge for "Liberty and Humanity," I believe that if 
there be one man, the luster and glory of whose name, the 
power of whose position commands the confidence of his 
people, who can bring forth our loyalty and faith to cling 
to the flag in the dark hours, to work for it, fight for it, 
pray for it — if there be one man of this generation whom 
Americans treasure in their hearts, that man is he who 
sits a silent, sorrowful sentinel in the White House, Wood- 
row Wilson. And along side the words of Jefferson and 
Lincoln, future generations will read from his message to 
Congress. 

"It is a fearful thing to lead this great country into 
war, into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, 
civilization itself seeming to be in the balance. But the 
right is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for 
the things which we have always carried nearest our 
hearts, for democracy, for the right of those who submit 
to authority to have a voice in their own government, for 
the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal 
dominion of right by such a concert of free peoples as 
shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the 
world itself at last free. 

"To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our for- 
tunes, everything that we are and everything that we have. 



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with the pride of those who know that the day has come 
when America is privileged to spend her blood and her 
might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness 
and the peace which she has treasured, God helping her, 
she can do no other." 

And tonight, we stand again "as the heirs of a priceless 
and imperiled birthbright; the defenders of an endangered 
nation." "We have no selfish ends to serve. We desire no 
conquest, no dominion. Vv^e seek no indemnities for our- 
selves, no material compensation for the sacrifices we 
shall freely make." Our task is but to embalm into the 
hearts of the world, those institutions of freedom, of liberty 
and of humanity, in which the freest and best elements of 
existing systems are blended with the revelations and 
experience of buried ages and epochs. 

Last Wednesday we commemorated the one hundred 
and forty-second anniversary of the Battle of Lexington. 
One hundred and forty-two years ago our forefathers 
braved for seven years the greatest power on earth and 
endured all the hardships and pangs of civilized war, with 
the added horrors of the tomahawk and scalping knife. 
They were sustained by an unfaltering purpose. What 
was it? It was to plant the tree of constitutional liberty 
for all. It was planted at Bunker Hill and the acorn has 
grown to the oak. Through the years it has stood, brav- 
ing the storm and winds, sticking its roots more deeply 
into the soil, its lofty head exalted and its arms ever broad- 
ening out, and beneath its sheltering branches a great 
people has grown and thrived and prospered. Beneath it 
too, a homogeneous and harmonious republic, based upon 
human rights and human liberties, was established, its 
people strong in their self forgetfulness, self sacrifice and 
lofty patriotism. 

For their ideals, for the rights of free men and free 
government, the American people have ever contended. 
From the Minute Men of Concord to the men of our day, 



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the cry has ever ever been the same. This, it is now our 
peculiar privilege to remember. In distant generations, in 
conflicts great and small, by land and sea, we have played 
our part and played it nobly. But whether with the bare- 
footed Continentals of Washington, trailing their blood 
prints on the snows of Valley Forge, with Crockett at the 
Alamo, with Taylor at Buena Vista, with Grant at Vicks- 
burg or with Lee at Appomatox, the battle was not for 
conquest or territorial aggrandizement, but that the fun- 
damental principles, upon which this great experiment of a 
free government were founded, might be preserved. And 
in our own day, the men who stormed the hills of San 
Juan and bore our flag with honor to the forbidden city of 
Pekin and the Jungles of Luzon, have followed the ideals, 
the hopes and the ambitions of their progenitors. The 
unfailing cry of every American Army that has ever an- 
swered the bugle call or stepped to the tap of a drum, 
has been "Liberty and Humanity" and the Stars and 
Stripes have never floated in any region, or over any peo- 
ple, but in benediction. 

The men of today are as good as the Americans of yes- 
terday and the men of tomorrow will be the same. They 
tell us now that we are unprepared and unfortunately they 
tell us the truth. But v/hen will we be prepared? Will 
it be when Prussian Militarism has crushed Europe and 
civilization and "Der Tag" has dawned? Will it be when 
the Hindenburgs and the Hapsburgs and the Hohenzol- 
lerns have unloosened their hell in America? We are not, 
but we will be prepared and prepared with money, men 
and arms, for here every citizen is a soldier and here each 
is or should be willing to give his all. Sometimes, when 
I read of what can happen or what may happen, I go back 
to a speech that I read as a boy and I think of what Lord 
Chatham, William Pitt, said to the House of Lords, one year 
after the commencement of the revolution. 'T love and I 
honor the English troops. No man thinks more highly 



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of them than I do. I know they can achieve anything, 
except impossibilities and I know that the conquest of 
English America is an impossibility * * * you may 
swell every expense and effort, still more extravagantly, 
pile and accumulate every assistance you can buy or bor- 
row; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German 
prince who v/ill sell his subjects to the shambles for a for- 
eign power, but you cannot, my lords, I repeat it, you 
cannot conquer America." 

I do not fear the outcome of the war. It may be months 
or it may be years, but the potential power of a great 
people fortified by right, must and will ultimately pre- 
vail. That there will be dark hours, I fear. Already some 
of our own boys have marched away. Others must follow 
and some may not return. Of them some future poet shall 
write again: 

"On Fame's Eternal Camping Ground 
Their silent tents are spread 
While Glory guards, with solemn round. 
The Bivouac of the dead." 

God help and God pity the mothers. Theirs the backs 
that must bend, and theirs the hearts that must break 
at the cruel sacrifices of war. Like Abraham of old, upon 
the altar of their country must they lay the children of 
their breasts, to make the greatest sacrifice of all. Far 
across the dark waters to-night the tears of a million 
mothers, who have given their sons to war, are falling fast. 
Every rifle shot and every bullet that sings its death song, 
as it whisks on its deadly way to find its billet in the 
heart of either friend or foe, reaches also to the heart of 
somebody's mother. God help and God pity the mothers. 
But this is war. The die is cast. There is no turning 
back. Better by far to die "fighting for the ashes of his 
fathers and the temples of his gods"; better to die midst 
the cannon roar, with the last thought of home and the 



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last look at the "old flag"; better the mothers' tears, than 
dishonor and disgrace; better a thousand times to die 
than to live a craven thing, a man without a flag — without 
a country. 

If this be the supreme test of our existence, then 
must we be prepared to make the supreme sacrifice. Each 
must do his part; each must give of the best that is in 
him. Daily from the White House come the appeals to 
the people and patriotism consists of deeds and not of 
words. You have read them all and repetition would be 
more than idle. I have the most abiding faith in the 
American people. I know that they are slow to act but 
when once aroused, they are invincible. So I repeat that 
this is the time for each man to ask himself, what can I do. 

From my heart, I hope the universal conscription bill, or 
the selective draft bill will be passed by Congress. 
It was magnificent to see with what unanimity Con- 
gress passed the appropriation bill of seven billions of 
dollars, a larger sum than it took to finance the 
entire Civil War. If they are willing to vote dollars, with- 
out a single dissenting vote, why not vote men with the 
same unanimity. The volunteer system never did and 
never could produce any other result than to sacrifice the 
best. Under this new bill all would be drawn and I would 
not limit the age to twenty-five or thirty-five or forty-five. 
Some will be sent to the front and some to the forge, 
but each will be detailed to that particular duty for which 
he is best fitted. Then, with our armies in the field and 
our armies in industry can we hope to make up for the 
delays of the past. I have no patience with the patriots 
whose war cry is "Let George do it." I have, I hope, 
sufficient love for my country and sufficient veneration 
and respect for my fiag, not to want to whisk a broom 
while others shoulder the musket. I do not believe in 
the kind of patriotism that pictures Patria and hides 



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itself in the colors of the Star Spangled Banner just as it 
drinks rum and preaches Rominger. And I have only 
the most profound contempt for the men whose sole idea 
of sacrifice is to act as wet nurses for the war brides at 
home. 

But I believe in that sort of patriotism that thrills and 
hopes and endures and sacrifices. Like James Whitcomb 
Riley's — 

"Old Glory; the story we're wanting to hear 
Is what the plain facts of your christening were, 
For your name — just to hear it 
Repeat it and cheer it 's a tang to the spirit 
As salt as a tear 

And seeing you fly, and the boys marching by 
There's a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye 
And an aching to live for you always, or die 
If dying we still keep you waving on high." 

Do you remember eleven years ago tonight? San Fran- 
cisco in dust and ashes and ruin. And can you tell me that 
the men who had the courage, the pride and the patriotism 
to rebuild out of the sorrow and ashes, this great, new 
magnificent city, will fail the nation now? Never, no 
never! And that is the patriotism we need now. 

There can be, there will be, there must be but one out- 
come to this war. And when Peace comes — a long lasting 
world Peace — each ship that sails, like a white cap mes- 
senger to distant lands and foreign seas, shall proclaim 
again that here, in this land of freedom and aspiring 
hopes, the ideals for which our fathers fought, have been 
preserved and within our hospitable confines, the exile 
from every land may still find a home, where his days may 
be spent in peace, in plenty and in prosperity. And each 
shall turn to that flag, emblematic of a world's freedom 



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and a world's democracy, whispering as it waves to the 
"loyal winds that love it best" its tale of human rights 
and human liberties, and prayfully proclaim — 

"Flag of the free hearts, hope and home, 
By Angel hands to valor given, 
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome 
And all thy hues were born in Heaven. 
Forever float, that standard sheet 
Where breathes the foe but falls before us, 
With Freedom's soil, beneath our feet, 
And Freedom's banner waving o'er us." 




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